Spending 10 Hours at a MLB Park
Juan Pierre was in the box hitting — the same Juan Pierre who hasn’t hit a home run since September 2006. Needless to say, I wasn’t on the edge of the rail waiting for him to hit a bomb, but I was still paying attention nonetheless. Lo and behold, Pierre hits a line drive straight toward where I was positioned. At first I thought it was going to fly over my head, and I prepped myself to make a jumping attempt, but instead, it raised my glove just a bit above eye level, and the ball traveled directly into it.
I couldn’t believe it had come right to me. I pulled down my glove, took the ball out, and immediately handed it to the second young brother, who had seen his brother get a ball and had been standing out in the outfield with his father for nearly as long as I had (despite his parents asking him a couple of times if he’d rather go play in the kids zone or go shopping in one of the souvenir shops). I never thought I would give up the first batted ball I ever caught at a major league stadium, but without thinking, I had done exactly that.
